Georgia said nothing, merely held her arm stiffly at her side and sniffled a little. At least she was taking Nat’s cue.
“I rather think she might not be worth the money I could get for her.”
Nat had to stop that line of thought. “Many foreign men will find her exotic. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Many of those men like a full figure. Please. Just while I’m adjusting.”
He sighed. “Gretchen, it’s time. Go up. Keep your gun trained on the blonde. I’ll handle Natalie.”
Gretchen immediately began moving, scrambling up the ladder that led to the rooftop. She popped out, but turned and crouched, her gun trained on anyone coming up the ladder.
“If your friend can get herself up the ladder, she can come with us. But, Natalie, I swear if you make a sound, Gretchen will kill her. I’ll put a bullet in you, but I won’t kill you. You’re valuable property to me. I’ll have what I want. Do you understand?”
He would kill Georgia, but her torment wouldn’t end. Yes. She understood that.
But Chase was here. Or Ben. One of them.
Only one of them?
Why would one stay behind? Unless they weren’t sure where she was and they had split up.
“I require an answer, Natalie.”
“Yes. I understand.”
His hand went to the door, using the key to unhook the lock and swinging it open.
She could run at him, try to knock him off-balance, try to get the gun. But Gretchen was in her perch, just waiting for a reason to fire. And Tate outweighed her by seventy pounds. She had to wait until they got to the roof and hope for a better chance there.
“Blonde cow, you go first. If you can’t make it up the ladder, I’ll leave your corpse here.” Tate motioned to the ladder.
Georgia walked out, her body stiff with pride, but Nat could see the words had cut deep. Georgia held her bad arm at her side and started to force her way up the ladder. She hung there for a moment when she realized she needed the other arm for balance. Biting back a cry, she used it. Nat could see the blood start to flow again, but Georgia moved on, her will and pride greater than Nat had thought.
But she should have known. Georgia was a Dawson. She would survive.
Nat sighed as Gretchen moved back to let Georgia out. One hurdle over.
A loud smack reverberated through the small room, and Nat’s cheek exploded with pain. Tate had slapped her with the full force of his fury. Nat was knocked to her knees, the hard floor jarring through her.
“Master, Natalie. You called me Tate a few minutes ago and I won’t have it. You will call me Master.” He pulled her to her feet by her hair, pain flaring as she tried to gain her balance. “Is that understood, slave?”
“Yes, Master.” God, she wanted to kick him in the balls, but she had to live. She had to give Ben and Chase time to find her. Chase was smart enough to track her. Ben would never stop. Her men would come for her. She would be wrapped in their arms again and that was worth the pain.
Tate’s mouth was close to her ear, hot breath on her skin. “Don’t think because I want you that I won’t hurt you, Natalie. You’re mine now. You’re mine to beat and screw and kill when I want. You are my property. It’s my way and only my way. Hawk was too easy on you. I am a true Dom.”
True Dom her ass. He was a sick fuck. A Dom gave and gave. A Dom cared and loved. A Dom set a sub free. A Dom, her Doms, had unleashed her. They had given her a reason to live, to fight.
He was nothing but a prick she had to survive to get back to her life.
“I understand, Master.” The word brought bile to her throat, but she said it. Words were meaningless in this place. Words were a way to get through the day. She knew who her Masters were. The men who loved her.
“Up you go and don’t forget, I’ll kill the other one if you call out. The music from the club should be loud enough to ensure no one will hear you. It’s almost dark. The club should be filling up soon. If I get trapped up here, I might have to start taking out anyone in my way.”
He would kill a bunch of innocent people if she didn’t stay quiet. Although innocent might not be the right term. They were strip club patrons. Still.
She climbed the ladder, her every muscle shaking with fear and adrenaline. If she was forced into that car, it could take a long time for her men to find her. But if she could find a way for Georgia to get away, they might have a better chance.
The roof of the club was still hot from the sun, though it was going down now. The neon lights were bright in the twilight. The huge sign formed a barrier to anyone from the parking lot. No one would see her from that angle and only employees were allowed to park in the rear. Most of them would be in on it.
God, she felt so fucking alone without Ben and Chase.
She got to her feet. Georgia’s arm was bleeding freely, her skin a pale white in the glow of the lights. She stood with Gretchen’s gun to her head, but her knees were shaking.
“Stay back.” Gretchen ground the gun against Georgia’s head.
A firm hand started pulling her along. “I think I’ll send those fuckers a little note when we’re gone. I would love for them to know that I managed to get you out of town right under their noses. I am smarter than all of them combined.”
He pushed her forward. Nat could see the stairs he would use. They glinted slightly in the dim light and then she heard a shout.
“The cops. The fucking cops. Get out of here.”
Something was happening in the parking lot.
“Keep moving, slave.” He shoved her forward, a little panic on his face.
Georgia was almost to the stairs when she heard it. A little whine from her left and then a hard thud.
Natalie turned and Tate stood there, a neat hole in his head. Nat fell to the ground just as another volley hit Tate, this time in his chest. Two bright blooms of color blossomed just before Tate fell back, his big body hitting the ground.
Nat scrambled for the gun, praying someone would take out Gretchen.
“Master?” Gretchen’s voice was shaky. She’d let go of Georgia and turned back, her eyes on Tate’s form.
“Georgia!” Logan clambered onto the roof. Georgia was on the edge, and he had her in his arms and out of the line of fire in an instant.
Chase stood behind Gretchen, a gun in his hand. “Drop the gun and I might allow you to go to a nice insane asylum.”
“Please don’t kill her, Chase,” Nat asked.
The gun was at Gretchen’s side, not pointed at Natalie. She seemed to completely ignore Natalie, all of her attention focused on the dead psychopath.
“My Master.” Tears coursed down Gretchen’s face, the first real emotion Nat had seen from her. “Why do you kill our Masters, Natalie? Why do you take everything away from me?”
“Please, Gretchen. You need help.” She knew Chase wouldn’t understand. Chase didn’t know what they had gone through, and Gretchen had gone through it the longest. Gretchen had been the most abused, her heart and soul decimated as much as her body had been. She was sick. So sick and Nat hadn’t seen it. No one had.
Gretchen fell to her knees beside Tate’s body.
Chase moved in, scooping Nat up and pulling her to his side, his body protecting hers. “You can’t save her, sweetness. She’s gone.”
“I love you, Master.” Gretchen leaned over, kissing his dead lips, and then the gun went up, but to her own temple. “I will join you as a good slave should.”
“Don’t.” Nat cried out because for everything Gretchen had done, she had to believe there was still a way out. There had been one for Kitten. There had been one for her.
Her time in the cage played out in that single moment when Gretchen held the gun to her own head. She could still see Gretchen crying, the bruises on her skin, the hollow look in her eyes. Yet when she’d had food, she’d shared it with Nat and Kitten. She hadn’t been all bad.